Unseasonal Migration of Birds
What sets me off to one side
for silent needles' deluge
concealed in priceless niceties
To whom do I owe the debt
of brains rescinding embrace
Literally or figuratively
and pejoratively
the prick
'Make Streetlights Go Crazy'
Originated August 18, 1997
Early evening nightmares
and their inclusive
entourage:
These days glow
then fade.
Still something will
not succumb
to time and motion.
Some eyes will never close
as some things will not change.
'Rachel'
Originated September 5, 1995
I read of Hester Prynne and thought of you
then…
I saw you in a tree,
as a tree,
in the light of my Moon.
then I flipped a switch
and you faded into the night.
It gleamed upon you
so terribly wrong
and disrespectfully.
Manipulated by the lingering lethargy.
Bewildered by the ponderings of the inconceivable.
Then confusion splashes onto my canvas.
A true-life novel.
I bought an FM radio, and I wasn't thinking of you.
Then I dove into my scarlet letter
and I saw you there.
Truth all-tainted by stars.
And I can't find our tree in that painting by Mondrian.
Only lines
and colors
and shapes.
Close-minded and tight-clothed:
I see you there, too.
With your can of aerosol.
Sitting naked in your bed
And fright spatters white onto my picture of you.
Over the confusion.
An Act of Blessing,
an accident.
A pursuit of mass-reasoning…
but the masses—
they never visited your Earthbed.
They never thought to cry or mourn.
They only saw you…
with your wicked can of petrol
Dousing my tree with it.
Its black film shuts my eyes
and beckons me to bed.
So I retire
but somehow awaken
To find Hester in my closet
reading from your journal
And daylight comes to shine on our Tree
to shine on you
to glare upon all that you were
visionscapegoat
FOR RACHEL EMANNUEL, WHO DIED.
why are you all gone and shit?
What does it take to disappear?
what must one's status be before I can say they have disappeared?
gone for years or is just hours okay too?
i love you and i miss you
and i don't know where you are
but i hope you're okay
wherever you might be
i hope you're quick
and smiling
in whatever you're doing
i hope there are no tears
in those eyes that used to steer me
places
i'm caught midair
i don't know where to find you
i don't know
how this became a poem
???
maybe it
was the clever use
of line breaks
or
some
thing
'Untitled (if my life)'
If my life were a movie,
It would go on forever.
I would be standing in a ferocious snowstorm
But it would be very bright.
It would be very cold.
You would see everything through my eyes
And all there would be to see
Is snow.
It would be very cold.
And Sigur Rós would be playing
Loudly.
It would go on forever.
'When words would run like water'
When words would run like water
through pipes - to the brain
Then nothing's left, like in a fire
when nothing's left.
When you used to push
but now you pull your hours away.
All that time spent trembling and grasping
Clutching, clinging
ripping, resting,
Finding yourself tiring of this simple game.
(and it still sits with its eyes half open)
(looking at you even)
(With its eyes half shut like that)
'Don't go holding'
Don't Go Holding
Me when I go
Departure is enough
to start the bed shaking
and the ceilings falling
and don't go holding
out on me when you're in my thoughts
They're all I've got anymore
Don't Go Holding
me in a high-up place
in your heart
or otherwise
I've tumbled before
'95%'
Little candle people hold hands
in a sweet discovery.
One is wearing grayish pink, the red head.
Inside he is empty and I wonder why.
His friend is dressed in green
He's more clear-headed than the other
and inside he's empty too.
Steady eyes scan the tabletop for a subject
I long for an inspiration, something
to shroud this thing in mystery. I think
I'm going to fall short this time.
95% is a lot, but it's not enough.
Kids, when you ask the wrong question
then the answer doesn't really matter too much.
I didn't get what I was looking for
this time. More research intended.
So I am left to inspect this 95%.
I am just sitting here on fire wondering
just what it means.
I didn't think it would be fifty, though,
like you thought I would.
95…59
1…7…10..10..12
Trying to find my place and keep it.
Not sure about this…
Not sure about the names.
Nothing exciting really happened that year.
Clear-Head is taller than Red-Head
by just a half a hair.
They're just so empty all the time
or so I tell myself.
Could be my eyes playing tricks
as they have a tendency to do.
I should be doing something more right now
than sit and wonder about 95% of something.
Good answer, boy, good answer.
You made a grown man smile.
But you won't last here long.
Maybe that's what I was looking for.
'2 weeks'
ha ha ha
my life.
a series of puttingthingsonthewall
then takingthembackdownagain
I've got swirling lines
someone gave me
I've got pictures and draw rings
from a mazda miata
top down
close your eyes
box them up
right up
put
them
in
A
BOX.
I've got memories for teeth
my hair is a place to vent
I've discussed pleasure zones
and asleepagain
I've talked about LOVE
while reeking of apathy
I've got pieces of fabric in my pockets
security blankets for the New Year
I've got a box at home
where I keep all the things
I've taken down from my walls
all the THINGS
from my WALLS
into a BOX
I've got a home
in that box
I box myself up
at home
with my BOX
in my home
with my BOX.
'There is hope'
There is hope and there is no hope
There are lies that cover the truth
There is kindness that hangs overhead
Kindness pays a price every time.
There is pain I know
There is desperation and sorrow
There are words and embraces
Failures I won't soon forget.
I've found two halves to every whole
One diseased and terrible
One on fire with goodness
I'm so sad I could die.
I tried to love you and you and you
I got so big that I blocked out the sun
Each time I shrank so very fast
I've imploded and died too many times.
I was a child who wanted to be a proud man
Now I'm a wreck
Looking for that child
Looking for that proud man.
-
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